Chapter IX: Poland and Armenia

I left Newbuildings on the 5th, Anne coming up to London to see the last of me (for I was going abroad alone), and as my first stage to Gros Bois.

“_8th Sept._—Gros Bois. We are much occupied here with a new catalogue Wagram is having made of the family papers. Many of them are most interesting. Wagram’s ancestor, the father of Marshal Berthier, seems to have performed on a certain occasion some small service at Versailles—he was in a very subordinate position—helping to put out a fire in the stables and also designing a star and baton for the Marshals of France, and for these was ennobled by Louis XV. The son was therefore not quite a _parvenu_ when Bonaparte attached him to his fortunes. He eventually became ‘Duc de Neuchâtel et Valangin, par la grace de Dieu et l’acte impérial de Napoléon I, Empereur des Français’ (such is the inscription over one of the doors of Gros Bois) and was at one time possessor of Chambord. He died while Napoleon was at Elba, and so avoided the final _débâcle_. But the Marshal’s son signed an act of renunciation of the Duchy of Neuchâtel, and restored Chambord to its royal owners, since when the descendants have remained Princes of Wagram at Gros Bois, a far more enjoyable if less splendid possession. M. Jusserand was here last night, and we looked through these papers together, with Duphot the young man who is making the catalogue.

“Jusserand is a very small dark man, with large head of the brachicephalic type—left at the present moment in charge of the Foreign Office, his superiors being away _aux eaux_—a clever talker, and, I should say, a very able official as well as literary man. He was Chauvinist enough to show emotion when reading the original of the capitulation of Ulm signed by Mack, and later the document signed by Ney and others, settling the line of military demarcation in France with the Allies. There are among the documents some interesting letters from Napoleon and one from Marie Louise signed ‘Louise.’

“Another interesting man here yesterday was Ludovic Halévy, who gave us reminiscences of the Second Empire when he was Clerk in the Chamber of Deputies, and acted in some sort as temporary Secretary to Morny. His reading of the Empire is that which all who were much behind the scenes have long known to be the true one, and which History will adopt—namely, that Napoleon III was not by blood really a Bonaparte, and as little by character, a phlegmatic, good-natured man, fond of ease and fond of women, with a certain superstitious belief in his star, and ambitious less by natural taste than by position. Morny, his half brother, was at the beginning his guiding spirit, but was ousted from favour by the Empress several years before his death in 1865. The Empress Eugenie was without doubt the cause of Napoleon III’s latest misfortunes. A beautiful woman and of good family in Spain, she was all the same an adventuress, and had had more than one lover besides the Duke of Sesto, whom she loved before she came to Paris. The Emperor only married her because she was clever enough to refuse him on other terms. She led him an unquiet life, making him constant domestic scenes, from which he fled to Marguerite Bellanger, at whose apartment he was free from worries. (Marguerite Bellanger was, if I remember rightly, the daughter of Bellanger, who kept Voisin’s restaurant, and, when I was at Paris, a professional lady of pleasure.)

“Halévy recounted an incident of which he was witness when Morny, coming back from the Conseil des Ministres, threw down his portfolio in a rage, and swore he would never go again while the Empress was allowed to talk nonsense there. ‘L’Empereur fera la guerre,’ he exclaimed, ‘un de ces jours pour lui éviter une scene de famille,’ and this was precisely the thing that happened. At the time of the quarrel with Prussia in 1870, she had come suddenly to the Council Chamber and dismissed the Ministers in her husband’s absence, saying: ‘Messieurs, il y a congé aujourd’hui. Nous sommes en fête. La guerre est déclarée.’ Halévy is a capital talker—I should imagine of Hebrew origin, judging by his profile and other signs—a neighbour of the Prince’s here at Gros Bois, and intimate, too, with the Alphonse Rothschilds. His son, a most interesting young man of the serious student kind one reads of in French novels but so seldom meets, was here on Friday—an abler man, I should say, even than his father. Poor Mme. Alphonse was also here—it being Berthe’s wedding- day—a sad woman, mourning her lost beauty and trying to be gay. There was, of course, much talk of the attempts made against Alphonse by the anarchists. He goes about guarded everywhere by detectives. All complained of the lack of government in France, and all blamed the Parliamentary _régime_.

“_12th Sept._—Antonin. I passed through Paris on Sunday afternoon (the 8th) on my way to the Potockis here in Poland, and spent a couple of hours at the Embassy, or rather in the Embassy garden, to which Lord Dufferin invited me. I had an hour alone in it, sitting at the farther end, near the grille—in some sort a sacred spot for me. Then Dufferin came to fetch me, and took me off to Lady Dufferin, who was holding court for the Lord Mayor of London on the lawn, all sitting on gilded arm-chairs on a red carpet—the Lord Mayor, Sir Francis Reinalls, a ridiculous, pompous little man, who has come over to Paris to make a splash, bringing his gilt coach and four horses with him. Dufferin tells me that at the Elysée Reinalls took upon himself to compliment the President on his _royal_ bearing, and to invite him to stay with him at the Mansion House. He seems to have made a fool of himself all round. He told me himself that he had been to the Théâtre Français, and had been so bored that he had gone away to a Café Chantant, and I see the French papers have got hold of the story, while the English ones contain a protest that he has no commission at all to represent the City of London in Paris.

“Dufferin was very kind and pleasant, as he always is to me, and showed me his books. Among them was a volume of Gregory’s Memoirs, and he fired up when I noticed it, repudiating with great indignation the story told there of his aunt, Mrs. Norton, having sold the information of Peel’s change on the Corn Law question to the ‘Times.’ He assured me it was entirely false, as he had traced the truth to Peel himself, who desired to clinch the matter. He considered it a cruel libel on his virtuous aunt. But Dufferin is touching in his family fidelity.

“At 6.30 I took train for Vienna, arriving there the night of 9th September. Stayed at Sacher’s Hotel, a very excellent inn, and on the morning of the 10th, after calling on Barrington and Clarke at the Embassy, and getting my passport from them, I again took train, and so through the following night and the morning of yesterday, arriving at length somewhat tired and very dirty at Czerny Ostrov, my final station. At the frontier, Voloschitzka, I had some difficulty about my passport, of which the Russian authorities seemed suspicious, but with the help of Count Bielski, a young Pole whom I had met in the train, got through. At Czerny Ostrov a carriage and four was waiting, and I was driven rapidly to Antonin, the last half of the road in Countess Joseph Potocka’s four- in-hand of four dark bay Arab mares, very beautiful ones and beautifully matched, going a great pace. The roads were good, there having been no rain for long, and we did the distance of twenty-two miles in about two hours.

“To-day I have been shown the stud. The Arab portion of it is, I am sorry to say, in a lamentable condition compared with what it was eleven years ago when I saw it last. The reason is the want of proper stallions. For one reason or another Potocki has been unable to procure a really first class one, and the horse, ‘Euclid,’ which he bought in India of Lord William Beresford for, I believe, 500 guineas, has proved an absolute failure at the stud. His stock are coarse, without beauty or action, and are worse than the worst we have ever bred at Crabbet. They have not even the merit, if it is one, of exceptional size. Of the six stallions he showed me there was but one preserving the Arab type, a dark chestnut with four white legs, ‘Iflah,’ a four-year-old with nice action, bred by a horse he had from the Babolna stud called ‘Zarif,’ out of a fine old mare, ‘Khanjar.’ The rest were not worth looking at. ‘Euclid’ himself, who has been re-christened ‘Obeyan,’ is a horse not unlike ‘Kars,’ with a fine fore-hand and good points, too, in the quarter, but with a plain head (Kars had a fine one) of the convex type, and lacking distinction all through. It is only another proof of the mistake of breeding from a winner of races if you want to get handsome Arab stock. The fastest horses are, I believe, never, among Arabians, the best sires. The mares, which we looked over in the afternoon, are far better and deserve a better sire. There are a dozen really good ones—the rest inferior—but the dozen are enough to refound the stud, though several of the best are old. I regret immensely having sold ‘Shahwan’ to America, as he would have been well employed here, and, except ‘Ahmar,’ whom I cannot well spare, I have nothing old enough left to give. The mares I admired most were ‘Druha’ and her daughter ‘Nerissa,’ ‘Zalotna,’ ‘Luba,’ ‘Khiva,’ ‘Poppeia,’ and ‘Khalifa,’ the dam of ‘Iflah.’ But most of them had unworthy foals to foot by ‘Euclid.’ On the whole it was a disappointing spectacle, and I spoke frankly to Potocki, or at least as frankly as it is possible to speak in such cases. I found him well aware of ‘Euclid’s’ failure. Then Countess Potocka drove me round the oak wood and through the grounds, which have been newly laid out and very well.

“_13th Sept._—I have had much interesting talk with Potocki about Polish history, and the great part played in it by his ancestors, who were many of them military leaders. His cousins, the Sangusckos, were independent princes in Lithuania 400 years ago; and these lands at Antonin and Schepetowka lay on the high road—it is still called the ‘black road’—of the Tartar invasions as late as 150 years ago. To come to later times, he talked of the famous Princess Czartoriska, his great-grandmother, who was the beloved of Lauzun, and he has given me Maugras’ book to read, which has just come out. It is founded on Lauzun’s memoirs, which Potocki assures me are authentic, and the original of which, privately printed, he has had in his hands. I asked him why Maugras, instead of giving a Bowdlerised _rechauffé_ of it, had not quoted the original, and he said it entered into quite impossible details, unfit for publication. I would give a great deal to read the original as it stands, for nothing strikes me more strongly than the identity of the highly cultivated society of our day in London with that of Versailles then. Not, I think, that we are so corrupt in money matters, or perhaps quite so open in our love affairs, but still the human nature of it is identical, and the peculiarity of the co-existence of much high ideality in principle with passionate love-making in practice.

“There is much cholera going on in the villages round here. Potocki showed me a village to-day where 100 persons have died, a local outbreak, almost confined to the province of Volhynia.

“_14th Sept._—Spent the day seeing Prince Sanguscko’s stud at Christowka, a really magnificent collection of mares, no English or other than Arab blood having been admitted. The flea-bitten greys were some of them quite wonderful. There is, however, a great lack of promising young stallions, the stallions in stud use being away at Slavuta. Christowka is 20 versts—16 miles—from Antonin across the black earth of the steppe, now all under cultivation—the few villages much swept by cholera. Christowka itself has lost 160 persons.

“We were received by the manager and his Viennese wife, a young bourgeoise who insisted on entertaining us. The Antonin Director, who was with me, is an intelligent man, a Pole from near Riga, and had been for several years in the service of the Bulgarian Government. On the way home he gave me a long and clear account of Bulgarian politics. According to him (his name is Cherkowski) Prince Alexander of Battenburg, with his many talents, was too young for the position he was given, and made many mistakes. The Russians—though as a Pole he had no desire to praise them—were really governing the country well. Their administration was excellent, and they had carried out in Bulgaria the reforms they only talk of in Russia, the finance being especially good. It has gone down rapidly since their departure. Prince Alexander was sustained by Austrian and English help. Prince Ferdinand he likes better. He, Ferdinand, is a quiet man, much addicted to science, especially botany. He would never have thought of accepting a throne but for his mother. Ferdinand is incapable, Cherkowski says, of having been concerned in Stambuloff’s assassination, though Stambuloff treated him with great arrogance. Stambuloff’s death was in all probability a private vengeance. He was a man of the most corrupt life, taking advantage of his official position to get women into his power, any who came or whose husbands came to him with petitions. He had violated many women, notoriously a certain singer who was engaged to be married, he and the chief of the police between them. The woman committed suicide on account of it. He was hated for these crimes, and they were probably the reason of his end. He, Cherkowski, was at the head there of the veterinary department. The Bulgarian Government had required of him to become naturalized, but he had refused, so left their service to enter that of Potocki. The Bulgarians were a clever people with much outward polish, but quite corrupt. They disliked all foreigners, but perhaps Russians less than the rest. He does not believe that Russia will succeed in recovering her lost position in the country.”

Slavuta and its stud have acquired a tragic notoriety since this entry was written, having been the scene of one of those hideous outrages which distinguished the Bolshevik revolution of 1917. Prince Sanguscko, the owner of the stud, was in his country house at Slavuta, when a number of disbanded soldiers recently returned from the Russian army broke into his house and took him out of it and brutally ill-treated him, killing him at last with their bayonets, and then pillaging the château and destroying the whole of his Arabian stud. This occurred in the autumn of 1917.

“_16th Sept._—I was to have left to-day for Kiev, but heavy rain has fallen and the roads are impassable.

“_18th Sept._—Potocki and I drove last night to Czerny Ostrov and dined at the house there of a certain Countess, once a woman of some fashion at Paris in the days of Napoleon III, still full of gossip, ancient and modern, for she goes yearly to Nice for the winter. At Czerny Ostrov she has a nice villa with gardens and grounds, and a select circle of such fashionable friends as the town affords, with an ancient admirer much dyed and painted.

“Then Joseph and I travelled on through the night and arrived in the morning at Kiev. The country for thirty miles or so south of Kiev is a great oak forest with spaces of cleared land—no very large trees, but growing well, they say, for the first 100 years, till their roots come to the gravel, when their growth is stopped. Oaks and birches are evidently the natural growth of the country, with alders in the swampy places and a few other trees, though there is a certain admixture of Scotch firs, new comers I should say. The Dnieper is the boundary beyond which the great fir forests of the north begin. The cleared land is a wide desolation of stubbles and beetroot, stretching for miles without hedge or landmark.

“Potocki’s business in Kiev is connected with the sugar trade, in which he, in common with all the landed proprietors, is interested. The market now is overstocked, and he tells me he is working his factories at a loss. A few years ago they were giving a prodigious income, but the production has become 25 per cent. more than the home consumption, and the general world’s sugar market at Odessa has fallen below cost price. He has something like 30,000 acres of land in hand, and his stake in beetroot sugar is a large one. While he went to his sugar conference, I made the round of Kiev with his agent Kosacki, who showed me everything. It is a very beautiful and interesting place with the finest situation, perhaps, of any town in Europe. The view northwards over the Dnieper and beyond over the great forest towards Moscow is splendid, and this evening, with a wonderful effect of light from the setting sun on the gilt cupolas, and a rainbow in the east, was unimaginably grand. Kiev is a very ancient and holy city, with fine churches, undergoing restoration, alas, in view of the Emperor’s coming visit. The Petchersk is especially interesting, an immense Convent in the Citadel, thronged just now with pilgrims from distant places in Russia, and beneath it a catacomb to which one descends by a long stair towards the river—a fine old-world place, hardly yet ruined by the villainous modern taste.

“At the inn I made acquaintance with Count Ladislas Branicki, who has arranged that I am to go to stay with his Aunt, Countess Branicka, at Biela-Tzerkov to-morrow, also with Count Pothofski, who has a stud of Arab horses, and other friends of Joseph’s. Our inn the Grand Hotel.

“_19th Sept._—By early train to Biela-Tzerkov, changing at Fastov. There I was met by Prince John Sapieha, who had come with his niece, Mlle. de Branicka, to see another niece away by the train, both the girls very pretty in their different ways. We then drove with four horses, handsome bays, to Alexandrie, Countess Branicka’s country house, a very fine place with beautiful woods and pleasure grounds where presently, after I had been entertained with tea and peaches, we went walking to see a pond netted. There is a large family party gathered here for Countess Branicka’s birthday. Her married daughter, Princess Radowitz, with her children, her nephew, Prince John Sapieha, and his wife, her unmarried daughter, the pretty one, Sophie, a Countess Zeilern and her daughter, an old Count Diodati, a Swiss in attendance on Princess Radowitz, and a few others whose names I have not quite learned. It is rather perplexing to find oneself so complete a stranger among so many.

“_20th Sept._—With Sapieha to Uzin, a stud belonging to Count Xavier Branicki, a nephew of the Countess, lying about sixteen miles away. We drove with four common horses, and on the road Sapieha explained to me the Branicki family history. Biela-Tzerkov was the capital of the Ukraine, and in former times the headquarters of Mazeppa. According to tradition the wild horse brought him here from Warsaw. The steppe was then all grass, but hardly anything of this remains now, all being under cultivation. In the latter part of the eighteenth century an immense territory of about a million and a half acres was given to the Branicki of the day—I fancy the same as the Branicki of the Lauzun Memoirs—in lieu of a long-standing claim he had against the Polish Government for the raising and maintenance of troops. He was called the Hetman. The territory was worth very little in those days, but is now a principality, bringing in about 7_s._ an acre, the current rent. On the death of the late Count, however, it was divided into four, the Countess’s share as widow and for her children amounted to 450,000 acres. She is therefore immensely rich. The stud also was divided.

“The history of the stud, of which I have looked over the books, seems to begin authentically in 1813, though Sapieha claims for it forty years or more of antiquity. It can hardly be called a pure Arab stud, as the stallions then imported stand entered as Turk, Turcoman, Anatolian, Persian, Arab, and even in 1828 English, while the mares are equally mixed. It is clear that they have run too much after size; and at Uzin the type is nearly lost. Occasionally, however, they produce a first- class horse, and I saw two such, ‘Hamat’ and ‘Haman,’ a bay and a chestnut, of great beauty and ideal action, though 15.2 or more in height. The latter especially is a nearly perfect specimen, and will be retained to breed from. The mares are far inferior in looks to the Sanguscko mares, having coarse heads, long backs, and long legs. They carry their tails, however, generally well. One cannot avoid the conviction about them that they are of mixed origin. I only saw one mare, ‘Tamisa,’ one would have supposed to be an Arab. They are breeding now largely from an English thoroughbred, which gives more saleable stock. They have, however, a very beautiful imported Arab stallion, ‘Heyan,’ of which they are proud—a dark, full chestnut, compact, strong, and of the highest quality. I should judge him to be a horse from Nejd, as he is not quite of the Anazeh type. But they know no more about him than that he was brought to Warsaw by a dealer. I strongly advised his use for their stud.

“Countess Branicka is a most amiable woman. Her mother, she tells me, was English, a sister of Colonel Wilson Patten’s wife, afterwards Lord Winmarleigh. She is clever and kind, most kind to me, doing everything to make me comfortable, and that I may feel at home. Her daughter Sophie interests me, a strange, original face, with a pretty, delicate figure, and a great look of distinction [afterwards Countess Strozzi]. The other daughter is Princess Radziwill. Sapieha (the Countess’s brother) was brought up in England, served in a Dragoon regiment, and talks French with a slight English accent, English with sporting slang of thirty years ago. His father was concerned in the Polish rising of 1830, and had his whole estate in Russia confiscated, worth, Countess Branicka tells me, thirty millions of roubles. His wife, a nice plain woman, had a fortune, and they live in Galicia. He is most amiable to me, showing me all things with great zeal. He is or has been manager of the estate and stud. Altogether a distinguished family, living a large but unpretentious life. The house, Alexandrie, is less than a palace and more than a common country house, and is supplemented with several smaller houses in the grounds, where the guests have their apartments. I should be happy, but that the weather again broke up this evening, and it has become intensely cold.

“_21st Sept._—Drove another twenty-five versts with Sapieha to see the Countess’s own stud—the mares better than those of yesterday. But they are dreadfully in want of good stallions.

“_22nd Sept. (Sunday)._—A bad cold, so did no more stud seeing—in bed instead. But in the afternoon to the oak wood—they call it the park—a delightful place, where we gathered orange-coloured mushrooms. Mlle. Sophie drove a pair of chestnut mares to-day perfect in shape and type. All the world drives here. We went out, three four-in-hands and three pairs—one four-in-hand of ponies being driven by a child of Princess Radziwill of five years old. There are two very fine teams, chestnuts and bays, and a third of greys, besides the ponies. All is done on a large and bountiful scale, with numbers of old servants, who carry the children about and kiss their mistress’s hand or sleeve as in the East. The park is a sanctuary for wild beasts and birds, and no gun is fired in it. But they have an English pack of hounds, and go outside with it twice a week fox hunting. Foxes are plentiful, but get soon to earth. In the winter there are wolves, and Sapieha told me of a run they had had of forty-two versts after an old one, which they killed. The hounds were afraid of it, but brought it to bay, and a peasant killed it with a cudgel.

“There has been a race this year at Warsaw, ridden by young Russian officers, of 100 versts or 120 kilometres, say seventy miles. It was run in the extreme of the hot weather, and, out of forty-one starters, thirty-six horses died. The race began at eight minutes past two in the afternoon, and the first horse, an English thoroughbred, arrived at a few minutes before eight. He survived. The second and third, also English thoroughbreds, died soon after coming in, and the fourth, an Arab from Sanguscko’s stud, arrived fresh an hour after the first and took no harm. The young officers seem to have ridden like lunatics, and I fancy the horses were only half trained. But I am to have precise details from Potocki. Most of the horses died actually on the road.

“I took an affectionate leave of Countess Branicka, for she is a really good kind woman, and we have made great friends. She has a house also at Warsaw, another at Kiev, and another, I think, at Vienna. The rest of the party have also been most friendly to me, and I am glad to have made their acquaintance, where one sees them at their best, in their own country.

“We had some talk about their political misfortunes. They all say the cause of Poland is lost, and that there is nothing more to hope. The persecution is more religious now than political. ‘I should not be surprised to wake up any morning,’ said little Mlle. Sophie, ‘and learn that we had to become Greeks or leave the country.’ All the peasantry and many of the bourgeoisie have conformed, and the young generation of converted Poles are among the most fanatical Russians. The elder brother of Countess Branicka’s husband was concerned in the rebellion of 1863, the last flicker of Polish nationality, and was exiled to Siberia, the property passing, I fancy, to the younger brother.

* * * *

“_26th Sept._—Constantinople, or, rather, Therapia. I arrived at daylight this morning in the Bosphorus, coming by Russian steamer from Odessa. A lovely morning, with a slight fog or haze, enough to give everything a mysterious look, but brightening into full sunshine later, with fresh north wind rippling the blue water. As we steamed down the Bosphorus the Russian ship’s mate, who talked some English he had learned in Japan, described what might be done with such a position in the hands of a European Power, the continuous streets, the railways, the electric light, etc. Thank Heaven, it is still in its old-fashioned way.

“Arrived at Galata I was rowed straight to the bridge, and on board one of the Bosphorus boats, and was so taken back to Therapia, a slow three hours’ trip, zigzagging from side to side, and in full enjoyment of the day and place. Breakfasted at Pétala’s, unchanged from its condition of thirty-five years ago, when I first saw it on my way home from Athens in this very month of September, 1860. Then, going to the Embassy, I found that I was expected to take up my quarters there, and here I am. It is strange to be here, with Philip for Ambassador and Violet Fane for Ambassadress. Philip is altogether charming, unaffected by his official importance, natural and kind.

“_27th Sept._—There are staying in the house Pom McDonnell, who is Lord Salisbury’s private secretary, come out, I fancy, to gather the Ambassador’s innermost thoughts for his master’s benefit—a charming fellow—and Henry Yorke and Lady Lilian. I spent the morning answering letters from home, and went riding in the afternoon with Philip and Pom over the heath-covered hills behind Therapia.

“_28th Sept._—In the Embassy _caïque_ to Buyukdereh to call on Nelidoff (Russian Ambassador) who, as an old friend, received me cordially, but we did not talk politics. He gave me a long and interesting account of a visit he had paid with Ozeroff and Haymerle in 1860 to Cairo, before any of the European innovations began. With Philip and Pom I have had long talks about Egypt, and a little about affairs here.

“_29th Sept. (Sunday)._—Spent the day on board the _Imogene_ (the ambassadorial despatch boat) with Philip, Pom, and Yorke—a perfect summer’s day. We steamed down the Bosphorus to the Sea of Marmora, landed on Bulwer’s island, circumnavigated Prinkipo, and then crossed to San Stefano, and home about sunset, the walls of Stamboul, the Golden Horn, and the Asiatic shore from Scutari upwards being lit up with the evening glow, a glorious apparition.

“We had much political talk, first about Egypt, which Philip considers to be a danger to us, but which he says can never be evacuated—_never_ in the political sense of counting votes at an English election—though we may be driven out of it. He says that the exclusion of France after the war of Tel-el-Kebir, from her position in the Joint Control, was entirely unexpected by him. He was away from the Foreign Office at the time, and nothing surprised him more than to hear it had been decided on. It was contrary to all our declarations and all our policy up to that point. He considers that if the French had declared from the outset their willingness to help in all arrangements and share expenses incurred, it would have been impossible to refuse them a renewal of their position. Lord Salisbury had done what he could to fulfill the promise of evacuation, but the Sultan’s refusal to ratify the Drummond Wolff Convention had ‘fortunately’ prevented its accomplishment. The French policy had throughout been childish. He was inclined to agree with me that it was a pity the attempt of Constitutional Government in Egypt had not been encouraged, as the lack of something of the sort here was what was ruining Turkey.

“Bulwer’s island is a barren and not very attractive little rock, of a few acres in extent, with some rubbishy buildings, now ruined, which Bulwer had spent much money on. He had built it for Princess Ypsilanti, a Greek lady whom he loved, and one of the rooms is still decorated with a mirror let into the ceiling, in which she could survey her charms. The Sultan had made him a present of it, and he had eventually sold it at a fancy price, £10,000, to the Khedive Ismaïl. It is occupied by a caretaker who keeps a few lean cows, its only inhabitants. The inner court of the house, overgrown with a yellow rose tree, run wild, and a clematis, would be pretty if the ruined buildings were less mean.

“At San Stefano we inspected the new Russian church, a memorial, not yet finished, of the extreme advance of the Russian army in 1877.

“_30th Sept._—To-day Philip told me the history of the Armenian trouble, and expressed his opinion distinctly that the Sultan not only knew of the massacres, but had himself given the order for them and approved of them. I think this extremely probable—indeed it is almost inconceivable that, under so strong a despotism as is the present _régime_, any provincial governor or commandant should have dared act thus on his own responsibility. The Sultan’s orders probably were to stamp out the rebellion. The mistake Philip seems to me to have made, is that he took the French and Russian Ambassadors into his counsels. They were sure to play him false. He is now in a very difficult and false position, for they do not back him up fairly at home, and he has used such threats that he cannot well let the whole thing drop, which would have been the wisest course. As far as I understand his thoughts, he intends, in case of the Sultan’s continued refusal to accept the English ultimatum, to take some violent action with the fleet, not here nor yet at Smyrna, but elsewhere. He asked me what would be the effect of blockading Jeddah and proclaiming that the Sultan had ceased to be sovereign of the Hejaz. I told him that the Grand Sherif would doubtless succeed to the Sultan’s power at Mecca if that power were destroyed, but that he must not count on any portion of the population joining English intervention. Much as they disliked the Turks, they would dislike the English more.

“Communications between the embassy and the palace are all but interrupted at the present moment, nor is Philip in touch with any section of the Turkish Moslem community. His information depends almost entirely upon what he learns from Christians—no Moslem daring to call on him. Now and again he receives a letter in strict confidence, but very seldom, from members of the old Liberal party. He counts on the death or deposition of the Sultan, which he thinks might take place at any moment, and he would favour any attempt to revive a more liberal _régime_. But, until there is a question as between the Sultan and his Mohammedan subjects, he says, he is powerless to take action. It is a misfortune of the position that England has only treaty rights of intervention in favour of the Christian Armenians. I talked all these matters over with Pom as we rode across the wooded hills in the afternoon to Kilia.

“On our return we found Yorke and Lady Lilian and Clara Singleton just returned from Stamboul, where they had witnessed a disturbance, which may prove to be an important one, between a body of Armenians and the authorities. According to the accounts given us by Philip of the affair, it appears that some days ago he received notice from the Armenian Revolutionary Committee that they intended making a demonstration in favour of the prompt settlement of the Armenian case. They were to assemble in Stamboul and present a petition at the Ministry. This seems now to have been forcibly prevented—a number of arrests were made—the Armenians fired shots—a Turkish colonel in full uniform was seen dead in the street—the Turks were allowed by the police to arm themselves with cudgels—some Armenians were beaten to death—and six others were bayonetted at the Zaptieh. But accounts differ greatly. The cavass who escorted the Yorkes declares that his party was menaced, and that he drew his revolver to protect them. But Yorke assures me that nothing of the sort took place as far as his party was concerned. All they saw was the Turks arming themselves with the cudgels—great crowds, and men being carried away in carriages with their arms bound. Still it has produced much excitement, and there is talk of revolution, massacres, and who knows what more.

“_1st Oct._—The news to-day about the Armenian riot is that the deputation arranged by the Armenian Revolutionary Committee consisted of 2,000 men, who were to meet at Kapu and to march to the Ministry (the Porte), while a deputation of women were to go to Yildiz. On their assembling, however, the police, forewarned of their intention, stopped and arrested the leaders. The Armenians then fired revolvers, and the Bimbashi of the Police was killed. Arrests were then made, the police, it is said, conniving at the Mohammedans of the quarter arming themselves with cudgels and beating the Armenian prisoners. Sixty Armenians are reported killed and fifteen of the police. The last news is that 1,000 Armenians, with some women and children, are being besieged in a church in the Armenian quarter. The revolvers and knives found on the Armenians arrested were all of one pattern, a fact which points to premeditation of defence, if not of attack. All this reminds me much of what took place at Alexandria in 1882 when the fleet was ordered there. I expect to see the programme repeated here. There will be a cry of ‘Europeans in danger’; the fleet will be ordered up to the Sea of Marmora; some British sailors will be mobbed on shore; a British Consul will be assaulted; and Stamboul will be bombarded. I am glad I am here to exercise what slight restraining power I can, though I am glad to say Philip shows no sign yet of having lost his head or lost his temper. We drove in the evening to the aqueduct, a very lovely evening.

“_2nd Oct._—I went in the Embassy launch to Constantinople to-day to lunch with my old relative, Walter Blunt Pasha. We landed at the railway station on Seraglio Point, and drove across the bridge, where all things had returned to their usual quiet. The Pasha tells me the Armenians who formed the deputation had been warned not to come in large numbers, and not to come armed. They therefore divided themselves into groups. One of these was stopped by the police, and, an altercation arising, the Bimbashi struck the leading Armenian with his sword, whereupon the man nearest him drew a revolver and shot the Bimbashi through the head. This led to a general riot; arrests were made and men killed on both sides. There seems no doubt that the Moslems of the quarter were encouraged to arm themselves with staves. He says, however, that the Government is afraid now that the Softas who took part in the riot against the Armenians will continue it against the Government. The Sultan, he says, has become very unpopular in the last two years, and everybody would really be glad to get rid of him. Even the highest officials are kept in a state of tutelage which galls them severely. ‘I myself,’ he said, ‘could not so much as go away for forty-eight hours to Broussa without permission from the Sultan himself. Neither the Minister of War nor the Grand Vizier could give it me.’ The Softas, too, are tired of Abdul Hamid, who they think is ruining the country. The army has been unpaid for five months.

“Norman, a newspaper man, came in and told me tales of assaults and assassinations of Armenians last night by the mob. But as yet neither Europeans nor Greeks have been molested. I do not think the matter is likely to go much farther at present. The chief Armenians went to-day to the palace to arrange terms for the men shut up in the churches, and are believed to have been successful. I find Philip very strong on the necessity of getting rid of Abdul Hamid. ‘We have come to the conclusion,’ he said to-day, ‘that it will be necessary to kill him. To depose him would be very difficult, perhaps impossible.’ I do not suppose that he would do this by any direct instigation, but he would certainly countenance a revolution which should proceed by this means. The idea is in the air, but twenty years of absolute despotism have weeded out the more venturesome spirits.

“I have written a long letter on the political situation here to Lady Lytton, who will, as likely as not, show it to the Queen, as she is now in waiting at Balmoral. Archibald Lamb has arrived from England, Lady Currie’s brother.

“_3rd Oct._—The Queen’s Messenger, old Conway Seymour, was despatched to-day. So I was busy writing letters. Philip went in with him to the Porte to call on the new Grand Vizier, Kiamil Pasha, who is supposed to be more favourable to English policy than the last, Said Pasha. But I fancy there is little real difference. I remember Kiamil at Aleppo in 1877, a little man of Jewish origin, who had once been tutor to the Khedive Tewfik.

“_4th Oct._—In the launch to the mouth of the Black Sea, and in the afternoon to the Sweet Waters of Asia in the ten-oared _caïque_, a pretty sight. Philip saw the Grand Vizier to-day, having missed him yesterday. He tells me the attacks on Armenians still continue, and the churches are still full of refugees. It is certain, however, that the Armenians are being pushed on by the Revolutionary Committee. It is a Secret Committee prompted, Philip tells me, by Russian Nihilists; and the trouble has been caused by the arrest of Armenians suspected of belonging to it, and their torture in prison. On the other hand murders have been instigated by the Committee, of Armenians suspected of betraying their cause. They seem to count on English help, and talk of an independent Armenia under an English Prince. All this is, of course, impossible, but it is the fault of our people, who have encouraged a rising they are really powerless to assist. On the other hand the Sultan, Philip thinks, has a design of exterminating the Christian Armenians in the provinces, just as the Emperor of Russia is exterminating the Catholic Poles, and for the same reason, to govern the country more easily. The delay in settling the Armenian question, raised by England, has prompted the Committee to more desperate measures. It is a curious state of things, which Philip says can only end in the deposition or death of Abdul Hamid. We discuss these matters daily, Philip and I and McDonnell and Yorke.

“On Monday I have arranged to go to Pera to stay with General Blunt, and on Wednesday I depart for Egypt.

“_5th Oct._—A long ride with McDonnell in the forest of Belgrade. He asked me whether I thought Lady Currie would make a good Ambassadress at Paris. I had heard from Lady Galloway that Paris had been promised to Lord Londonderry, and that in any case Philip would not have it. McDonnell, however, being Lord Salisbury’s private secretary, doubtless knows best, and I trust Philip may have it. He told me some interesting particulars about his chief, his many virtues and his great tolerance for those who had none. McDonnell is a charming fellow, with much of the Kerr eccentricity, for he is through his mother a Kerr.

“In the evening a large dinner party to the Russian and Austrian Ambassadors. . . . A sudden change of weather in the night, a violent thunderstorm with heavy rain, and now a strong north wind. It is time I was away in Egypt.

“_6th Oct. (Sunday)._—A day of wind and rain, no one moving out of doors till about sunset, when I took Pom out for a walk in the Embassy garden. There have been great comings and goings between Philip and the other Embassies, for they are preparing some joint action on the Sultan to stop the rioting in Constantinople. Pom is more communicative now than Philip, and I hope I have been able to indoctrinate him a bit in my ideas.

“_7th Oct._—The weather has cleared, and I drove in to Pera in an open carriage, and am now in the house of my ‘relative’ at 51 rue Kabristan, an old-fashioned little box of a place with a bow window looking over the Golden Horn. General Blunt has been some twenty years in the Sultan’s service, and received his promotion to the rank of Ferik, General of Division, only yesterday—a fine-looking old man, who has no other duty than to attend the Selamlik every Friday, and wear a handsome uniform.

“Professor Vambéry came to dinner and Capt. Norman, and we had a most interesting evening. The position here at Constantinople, according to these, is this: The Armenians, having unquestionably begun the disturbance, are now being harried by the joint action of the police and the mob. The mob are encouraged, or at any rate allowed, to break into the khans at night where the Armenians congregate, and sometimes into private houses, and beat the people they find in them to death with sticks. In some instances the police force admittance at the front door while the Armenian escapes at the back door only to fall into the hands of fellows waiting for him in the street. Thus several hundreds seem to have been killed. The mob is ostensibly headed by Softas, students of the University, but it is probable that these are often police agents in the Softa dress. At any rate it is certain that the police connive. The Armenian churches are full of refugees. Norman has been busy going round to these and to the Patriarch’s house, where they also congregate, and told us many tales.

“Vambéry was very communicative. He talked strongly against the Sultan in this business, although he has been a favourite at the palace. He declares that, though superstitious, the Sultan is at heart a free thinker, his religion being with him a matter of policy, and he related several anecdotes bearing on this point. It is the Sultan’s brother and heir presumptive, Rashid,[13] who is a true ‘fanatic.’ The Sultan has a deliberate political purpose, to diminish and drive out the Armenians, imitating in this the Emperor of Russia in his treatment of the Poles and the Jews. Vambéry is of opinion that Abdul Hamid cannot long retain his throne, and agrees with me as to the desirability of renewing the Constitution of 1876. This was the best chance Turkey ever had of putting herself on a level with other European nations. It is the best chance still. But it can hardly be under the present Sultan.

“_8th Oct._—With Godfrey Webb, Mrs. Horner, Mrs. Crawshay, and Lord Llandaff (Matthews) to see the Museum and St. Sophia’s—and with Norman to see the street door of the Armenian church in Pera.

“_9th Oct._—Left Constantinople for Egypt.

“_12th Oct._—Arrived at Sheykh Obeyd, _Elhamdu l’Illah_.

_Epitome of the Armenian Question, written by me on board ship on my way
to Alexandria._

“1. The Sultan, to prevent Armenia being given autonomy, on the ground of its possessing a Christian majority in any one province, encourages the Mohammedans of the Armenian provinces to ill-treat the Christians so as to force them to emigrate.

“2. The Christian Armenians, under the direction of a secret Committee organized by Russian Nihilists, and encouraged by English sympathy, refuse to pay taxes at Samsun.

“3. The Sultan orders their resistance to be crushed at all cost.

“4. The Turkish military Governor crushes it with great barbarity.

“5. The English Government, under Rosebery, urged by its Liberal supporters, intervenes. Philip Currie is urged to activity in repeated despatches.

“6. The ‘Times,’ seeing in the Armenian question a useful counter- irritant to the Egyptian question, chimes in.

“7. The English Government invites the French and Russian Governments to join them. This at Philip Currie’s initiative.

“8. These, believing the English Government to be willing to partition Turkey, accept the proposal of joint action. N.B. Rosebery probably is willing to partition Turkey.

“9. Rosebery goes out of office in England. In Russia Giers dies and is succeeded by Labanov. A change of policy ensues.

“10. France and Russia, knowing that Lord Salisbury, now at the Foreign Office, will not consent to the partition of Turkey, back out of joint action with England.

“11. Salisbury, to avoid questions in Parliament and to gain time, professes to go on alone.

“12. The Sultan, secretly reassured at Paris and St. Petersburg, stiffens his back. The negotiations at Constantinople are dawdled out.

“13. Gladstone makes his Armenian speech at Chester. Subscriptions are opened in England.

“14. Salisbury, to make show of being in earnest, orders a British fleet to the Dardanelles.

“15. The Armenian Committee, encouraged by the approach of the English fleet, and believing Salisbury to be in earnest, and that England will undertake the job of coercing the Sultan single-handed, organizes a demonstration at Constantinople. This is done with Philip’s privity.

“16. The Sultan orders the Armenian demonstration to be crushed.

“17. The Armenians are crushed at Constantinople with great barbarity.

“18. ??

“N.B. My impression, gathered from what Philip has told me, strongly is (1) that he was not keen, at the outset of the Samsun affair, to intervene, but took the matter up under Rosebery’s orders; (2) that he was responsible for the partnership with France and Russia; (3) that having embarked in the business he has since made it one personal to himself; (4) that for the last six months, at least, he has been in communication with the Revolutionary Committee, probably acting in concert with them; (5) that he was privy to the demonstration of 30th September, probably encouraged it, though perhaps not its being armed. It is he who told me that the Armenian Committee was organized by Russian Nihilists. This Committee has for its object, not union with Russia, but the establishment of an independent Armenia under English protection. They would take annexation to Russia as a _pis-aller_. But that is not their object.”

I found out afterwards that on Giers’ death the Russian policy towards Armenia underwent an entire change, though Philip Currie was not aware of it at the time. Instead of the old policy of protecting the Christian subjects of the Porte, Labanov’s policy was to encourage the Sultan to exterminate the Armenians as allies of Russia’s own Nihilists. It is doubtful whether the change was communicated to Nelidoff, a diplomatist of the old school of Christian protection; and I am inclined to think that he was in good faith in continuing his own sympathy with the Armenians, and expressing it to Currie. But of this later.